


There was a winter once and all the cattle starved

by tigriswolf



Series: comment_fic drabbles [253]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Backstory, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, M/M, Neglect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 17:53:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3859420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winter is not silent, no, but it is quiet. Still and patient. Jack Frost may think himself a spirit of fun, but Pitch knows better. Pitch sees into the boy’s heart of hearts and knows what lurks in the darkness, where Jack Frost is still stuck in a lake and Man in the Moon watches him drown.</p><p>[Alternate backstory for Pitch contained herein]</p>
            </blockquote>





	There was a winter once and all the cattle starved

**Author's Note:**

> Title: There was a winter once and all the cattle starved  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Dickinson  
> Warnings: AU for Pitch’s backstory; references to neglect/death  
> Pairings: pre-Pitch Black/Jack Frost  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 704  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: Any, Any/Any, Beneath the stains of time /The feelings disappear /You are someone else /I am still right here (Lyrics from Hurt by Johnny Cash / Nine Inch Nails) 
> 
> Note: I had forgotten this fic until the lovely reena_jenkins podficced it.

_What goes together better than cold and dark?_

A life without fear is not worth living. Pitch has known that for as long as he can remember, from who he was before Man in the Moon resurrected him to be the thing in the darkness, the shadow ever lurking, that shiver of apprehension that runs down the spine just before - 

Who he was before was a nice guy, all told. By modern standards, perhaps not; but modern standards mean nothing when compared to the eons before humanity could afford to be judgmental. 

Pitch’s people are long lost to the darkness of time, along with whatever name he had. He does not remember the name, but he remembers the life he led, those very brief years of existence before the ever-blizzard claimed him one dark night. 

He was a hunter in frozen tundra; his body was recovered not long ago by modern scientists, and he lurked in the lab, watching them preserve his long-dead form. 

So when he asks Jack Frost, _What goes together better than cold and dark?_ it is rhetorical. All he has ever known is dark and cold. 

Pitch has asked every winter spirit he comes across, but until Jack Frost, they were of few words and preferred to be alone. 

But Jack Frost, eternally a child… he does not want to be alone. He fears it. And when he grows tired of North, of Tooth, of that annoying Rabbit… 

Winter is not silent, no, but it is quiet. Still and patient. Jack Frost may think himself a spirit of fun, but Pitch knows better. Pitch sees into the boy’s heart of hearts and knows what lurks in the darkness, where Jack Frost is still stuck in a lake and Man in the Moon watches him drown. Pitch knows what wounds fester inside the boy, from three hundred years of loneliness, of being forgotten and discarded, of being ignored by those who should have welcomed him. 

Who only approached him when they _needed_ him. 

Winter is not _fun_. Winter is dangerous, and terrifying, and the cold that sneaks up on you, unseen, until it swallows you whole. Winter is death. 

Jack Frost knows that, and knew it even when he turned away from Pitch to side with the fools who had ignored them both for centuries. 

But that matters not. The Big Four, as the rest of the spirits who remain unchosen by Man in the Moon, jealous and hungry, call them, North and Tooth and Sandman and Bunny (of _all_ the ridiculous names) may be taken with the boy for a time. May find him refreshing, and new, and _fun_ – 

They are so busy, though. Billions of children all over the world. So much work to do. Time passes so swiftly; you blink and suddenly years have gone by. So how long until that little winter child is lost again? 

And Pitch will be waiting. A life without fear is not worth living, and fear cannot be locked away. Let them think they have won, have beaten him back again (again, hah, he was never beaten), let them believe the children sleep soundly, all tucked up in their beds – 

Fear does not need belief. And while the Guardians only look after children, Pitch has every adult in the world. 

So does Jack Frost, in his frozen heart of hearts. He may be tied to children’s belief at the moment, but soon enough he’ll remember what he has always known, what Pitch has always known, what the rest have forgotten, if they ever knew it. 

Winter is the dark time, shadowed and cold. Winter killed Pitch when he was a man and so he will always belong to it. 

Sandman, Tooth, Bunny, and North never died, but winter killed Jack Frost, too. 

And so Pitch can wait until Jack Frost wearies of the boundless light and slinks back into the darkness, into the shadows of his heart. 

Snow days are fun, yes, but so can blizzards be, when played in correctly, when driven by the nightmares of monsters. The boy will tire of wonder, eventually, and want to play in the dark again. 

And the dark is where Pitch will wait.


End file.
